


Generated One-Shots

by Masked_Dragoness



Category: Fandomless, Varying Fandoms
Genre: Basically a whole lotta one-shots, But for the most part i use OCs, I used to write canon muses so i claim no ownership of them and will state who it is am using, In other words: so. much. crossover., Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 13:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19854073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masked_Dragoness/pseuds/Masked_Dragoness
Summary: Ok! So! The way this little self challenge works is very simple, and you, too, can do this as well! Here are the guidelines:1. Make a spreadsheet of your OCs (or mix Canons and OCs, if yer me UwU)2. Pull up a random number generator (between 1 and however many OCs you got)3. Draw twice. Once for Character A and again for Character B.4. Plot can be anything of your choosing, but basically it has to center about those two characters, be it just a plot that comes to mind whenever you think of them or whatever. The world is your oyster with this one, so if you choose to accept my challenge with this: have fun with it! Seriously, this is mostly as an exercise for writing purposes if you suck at plots like me.





	Generated One-Shots

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Any canon muses i use in my works i will outright state do NOT belong to me nor do i make ANY claim to ownership to
> 
> 2\. Some of these one-shots will get very Rated 18+ at times, so if you are not at least 18 and up, as well as have a strong stomach, this is not for you.

(Icarus’s POV)

Darkness. That’s all i woke up to at first before my usually blurred vision came to me. A mix of grey and green greeted me, as well as the feeling of grass beneath me. 

A forest? Judging by the smell of pine and grass, that’s what I surmised. At the same time, I was horribly confused by this. A forest? Near London? How the devil was that even POSSIBLE in the town that I lived in? Staggering up to my feet, i felt myself lose my legs the moment i was upright. Dizziness struck, and it felt like i could faint again at that moment.

I dropped to my hands and knees, stomach twisting as i bit back all urge to vomit. How long had i even been out? How did i even get here?

...Where in hell’s name WAS i?

“Good. Yer awake...promisin’ t’ know that seance didn’t keel ye ov’r a second time, hm? I’d HATE t’ be dealin’ wi’ a corrupted soul...jus’ one more person t’ send t’ the deepest depths…”

It was then that deep, rumbling, and accented baritone voice spoke up. It was cold, but soothing, with a kind of growl that made it comforting to listen to. At the same time, there was a distinct air of dread. Something was wrong. VERY wrong.

“I...who are you…?”, i managed out in a small voice, like i was some terrified little boy. In a way, that’s how i felt at that moment. Like a scared and lost child, separated from their parents and deathly afraid of being forgotten about. Heart in my throat, I sat up on my knees, and slowly looked about for the source of the voice.

Nothing in the clearing from what i could see...at least, at first…

When my gaze focused on what looked to be the exit, i saw him, or what i could make of him. A black mass that i watched move a bit and then...whinny? A horse? The man owned a horse? I then watched as something climbed off the back of the shadowy steed and approached me with thundering footsteps.

As the figure came closer into my line of visible sight, I realized it was a man. A very tall, imposing man, clad in armor. He seemed like he could’ve been an army captain at some point, many years ago...but the one thing that tipped me off that this man was most definitely not human was the lack of a head. I could vaguely make out a pair of white eyes, staring down at me.

He took a few steps towards me, and stopped a few inches shy to outstretch his hand.

I stared back up at him with wide, confused eyes for a moment, trying to fully comprehend what was going on. Why did this all feel so familiar…?

A soft noise, almost like a low flute signifying a battle, rumbled forth from him.

“Well, Whateley…? Ye gettin’ up? Or ‘m i gonna have t’ carry ye to the bridge myself? I ain’t against either one, lad…”

Like that, i staggered up to my feet, grabbing the man’s massive hand to pull myself up in the process. I stumbled forward, wincing my eyes shut briefly to hopefully let whatever dizziness fade away. The being before me grunted, trying to hold me up until i was ok enough to walk.

“GODS, whatever possessed ye, it got ye good. No better th’n a drunk, are we…?”

“Can’t see...you’d be unsure of where you stood, too, if you couldn’t bloody see the ground you stood on.”

This was enough to stun him for a moment, before i felt his hands gently cup my face to make me look up at him. I couldn’t make out the expression, if he really even had one at the moment, but i knew right then: it was a look of utter surprise and shock. My eyes always looked a bit odd, a bright blue with seemingly no pupils. Really, my eyes were just so glazed over, it was almost indiscernible if i even HAD them.

“I...for a blind man, ye have some o’ the most beautiful eyes i’d ever seen on a mortal. Like two orbs o’ hazy ice starin’ into my soul...but...nevermind tha’. Come on...Charon awaits ye, lad...and only he knows where yer t’ go.”

The moment he spoke that name...it was then the gravity of the situation fully struck me. 

I had died that night, and this man...this being...was my guide to the afterlife. Charon was, of course, the ferryman who ushered the dead to whatever circle of hell they were destined to go to. Tears immediately pricked up in my eyes, and blinking sent a hot stream on them down my cheeks. 

I wanted to beg. To plead and bargain for more time, but i knew one thing was certain: death would not be swayed or moved by my heartbroken cries for a second chance. Once He claims the soul, it’s the point of no return. And that night, i knew i wouldn’t be coming home…

All because i wanted to speak with an old friend one last time…

With a look of finality, i closed my eyes and nodded, and then stared back up at him. I felt him release my face, and could make out the simple gesture he made with his hand. One that i was all too familiar with.

“Let’s go, Whateley...yer final destination awaits ye…”, the man spoke in a low, gentle voice.

And with that, i followed him into the foggy woods, never to be seen again but...in a way, somewhat hopeful as to where i would end up...


End file.
